


Isn't this exactly where you'd like me?

by millenniumfalcon



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, I mean, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Post-Season/Series 03 Finale, basically flint walks in on silver wanking off, black sails mmom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millenniumfalcon/pseuds/millenniumfalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It felt like nothing in the world could ever be as real as Silver's flushed face, intensely lost in chasing after his own pleasure."</p><p>Flint walks in on Silver masturbating and can't help but enjoy the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isn't this exactly where you'd like me?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt by ellelan on tumblr:  
> "Flint walks in on Silver touching himself. Silver,unabashed hedonist doesn’t stop and shamelessly proceeds to fuck his hand,moans and gives Flint a show. Flint is unable to walk away. He knocks next time?"
> 
> Written for the Black Sails Merry Month Of Masturbation
> 
> The title is from "But it's better if you do" by Panic! At The Disco (because apparently all my titles are from p!atd, I'm afraid it's becoming a thing)

"Where the fuck is Mister Silver?", Flint growled, anger beginning to furiously pump blood through his veins.  
He had just come back to Maroon island, bringing in munitions and new men he had recruited in a well-orchestrated boarding. It was not a bad result for such a short journey, but Captain Flint could feel the hot and rank breath of time on their necks - if they wanted to win this bloody war, they had to move quickly and swiftly. More quickly and swiftly than they were doing. That was why his nerves were already pulled taut even before he had set foot on the land. His temper was only getting worse by the minute, as he inquired after Silver and was met only with shrugs and silence. Anne Bonny, sharpening her knives in a corner, gave him an annoyed look before muttering something along the lines of, "Fuck should we know".  
Flint rolled his eyes and marched through the outer part of their camp and into the inner core of their makeshift fort. It needed to be fortified, just in case. He was afraid that the men were growing lax in discipline, and this was not the time to be anything but completely focused and determined, all working together towards the same goal. That was another problem likely to arise at some point: they had joined and mixed up various crews and, while that gave them the sure and necessary asset of more able men for manning their ships and for fighting, it also increased the probability of internal fights between different groups. It had already happened once, between his own crew and the Maroons. And, truth be told, he couldn't really find it in himself to fully blame the men for not being able to overlook past rivalries in favour of this new alliance: he himself had once been full on against Rackham and Bonny, for example, and it was now still quite weird to see them on his same side. He had had the experience of how much things could change, alliances could break and dynamics shift, but most of the men never experienced anything like that or were not involved in first person in such dynamics. They needed someone to guide them through it, to ease the merging of all the different groups and soften their quarrels and eventual discontent; they needed a voice whom they trusted to always speak up in their best interest. That was why he had placed Silver on the island, to oversee the crews' (and the other captains') behaviour and make sure that hell didn't break loose while he was away. But where the hell was Silver? By now, he had to have heard that they were back. Flint needed a full and detailed report on the situation, they needed to plan their angle before they met with Rackham, Teach and Madi. He was getting angrier by the moment, as he walked at a fast and heavy pace towards the hut where Silver had set his quarters. He had better be there, he thought, or he was probably gonna strangle him with his own hair.  
He barged through the door without making his presence known in advance, half expecting not to find his quartermaster there at all. Instead, the sight that met his eyes was quite unexpected.  
"Where the fuck have you --"  
The words caught in his throat as he felt the breath being knocked out of him.  
John Silver was lying on his back on the straw bed in the furthest corner of the hut. His curls were spread on the fabric beneath him, messy and knotted as if he had been running his hands through them repeatedly.  
His head was tilted to the side, lips bitten and shiny, eyes heavy lidded and lost in overwhelming sensation.  
He was naked from the waist up, his lean and muscled torso covered in beads of sweat. Though he was still wearing his trousers, they were pushed down his hips to reveal a well toned lower abdomen dusted with thin black hair.  
His right hand was gripping and twisting the fabric of his trousers on his thigh. As for his left hand, it was pumping his hard, leaking cock at a steady rhytm. His back would slightly arch off the bed every now and then, as breathy low moans fell from his reddened lips.  
It was a sight that James Flint was not prepared for. Silver didn't seem to have noticed his presence, so he considered backing out of the hut and pretending like nothing had happened, like he hadn't seen anything. Except he could not move. He could only stare, his hands clenched into fists with his blunt nails digging into his skin, feeling as if there was not enough air in that room, or on that island, or in the world.  
Silver's breath became more and more shallow and rushed, his hips searching for more and more friction as he inched closer to climax.  
Unable to restrain himself, Flint moved a step closer to the bed, and then another. It felt like nothing in the world could ever be as real as Silver's flushed face, intensely lost in chasing after his own pleasure.  
His feet must have inadvertently made some noise on the earthen floor, though, because just then Silver snapped his head towards him, his eyes suddenly focused and attentive.  
If he was surprised or taken aback, he didn't show it - his features just slightly faltered for the briefest moment before they settled into a cocky smirk. He didn't stop moving his hand along his cock, nor did he seem to want to, but he did slow down to a more controlled rhytm as he let his shining blue eyes roam all over Flint's body.  
"Hello, Captain", he said in a breathy murmur, a playful and irreverent tone thick in his voice.  
He kept stroking himself at this newfound rhytm, with the clear intention of making himself last longer.  
His eyes darted back up to find Flint's again, burning into them like fiery darts the colour of the ocean.  
Flint felt hypnotised, unable to look away, unwilling to even blink. He could feel his own erection uncomfortably straining against his pants, his own cock throbbing at the sight before him. He had fantasized about Silver more than once (something that he did not like to admit even to himself), and seeing him pleasure himself so passionately had his mind fill with wild images of Silver in other sexual situations.  
His mouth tracing every inch of Silver's torso and playing with his nipples, as he slowly stroked his cock.  
Silver underneath him, screaming his name as he came hard from his thrusts.  
Silver sucking him off until he came down his throat and swallowing everything.  
Flint shook his head in a poor attempt at clearing his mind. He barely noticed his own hand now placed over his pants on his cock and pressing down on his erection, desperately needing any kind of relief.  
From the look on his face, Silver must have guessed what kind of images were crowding his Captain's mind. He kept his eyes steady in Flint's eyes as he sped up his hand again, biting down on his lips, breath more ragged than ever. He was now positively fucking into his own hand, his body angled slightly to the side for better leverage, his free hand stroking his sweaty chest, his curls a dark and lascivious mess. He was making the most obscene and delicious sounds Flint had ever heard or even imagined, as if the sound of his own moans was turning him on ever more.  
Flint was so painfully hard and on the verge of despair, as he had not been for quite some time; and yet, he still found himself petrified by the lustful and sinful beauty of what was before his eyes.  
He watched as Silver's movements became wilder and faster and sloppier, his eyes glazed and slightly unfocused but never leaving Flint's.  
He watched as, with a few more strokes, Silver came all over himself, moaning harder than ever and tangling his fingers in his curls.  
The space between them was now only filled with Silver's deep intakes of breath, the air felt quiet and still. Flint didn't know quite what to do or say - he had been caught off guard and he hated that, but he was also still unimaginably aroused, which made it even more difficult (impossible, really) to focus on anything or start rationalizing the situation.  
He watched, still helpless and tense, as Silver caught his breath and regained his composure. Then, with a surprising amount of nonchalance, he pushed himself off the bed, quickly cleaned himself up and started pulling his shirt over his head. He placed his peg leg back in place, only wincing slightly when adjusting it tightly.  
"Well, Captain", Silver said as he eyed him and pointedly stared at his visible hard on, a smirk playing on his still swollen lips. "I see you have some business of your own to attend to. I will leave you to it - I've been meaning to speak to Madi anyway, about some further fortification for this settlement. So, feel free to take your time."  
With an unmistakably smug expression, he got up from the bed and slowly walked past Flint towards the door, not so casually bumping their shoulders together while passing.  
Just like that, Silver left.  
Specifically, he left Flint with a throbbing erection and high levels of frustration.  
Flint rolled his eyes, the slight annoyance he felt towards his quartermaster not even coming close to do anything to decrease his arousal. With a defeated sigh, he walked towards the bed and sat down on it. When he placed his hand on the fabric, he realised that it was still warm from Silver's body.  
With a shudder, Flint lay down in that warmth and unlaced his pants.  
He placed his hand on his throbbing cock, closed his eyes and let his mind wander back to bitten lips, breathy moans and sweaty skin.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! It's my first Silverflint (first of many, probably)
> 
> If you like, you can find me on tumblr as calicocaptain !


End file.
